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Jun 2016
before throwing myself completely to oblivion

which I tend to do rather often

I entertain a silent choir of thoughts

one being...

the magic of your touch

is like a nighttime carnival

that requires a special "golden" ticket

you make me feel like

I'm the only good left

in this mad collapsing world

as you saturate my skin in pearls of sweat

I silently promise

to kiss your wicked lips

until the world stops spinning
Written by
ultimatepanicqueen  United States
(United States)   
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